


On Top of The World

by htibberon



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:52:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htibberon/pseuds/htibberon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry comes home from a trip to LA to a quiet home.</p><p>Nothing dramatic, just a little HarryandLouis day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Top of The World

The flight was long, but somehow the car ride home seemed longer. Harry just wanted to be home, and with every passing minute the traffic was driving him insane. As he turned into his neighbourhood, he tried calling up the house phone but there was no answer just as there had been no answer on any of his attempts to call Louis’s mobile.

He tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, mentally encouraging the woman in front him to find her accelerator. They needed to find a house closer to the airport. He’d told Louis this several time, but his partner was such a sentimental sap sometimes. He’d look at Harry with those beautiful blue eyes swimming in the memories of the past couple years and when he’d take a breath as if ready to argue all the reasons he wasn’t ready to move from their apartment yet Harry would catch him in a tight embrace. Louis didn’t handle change well, for reasons that Harry understood, but he would keep trying to push him bit by bit.

Harry finally made it onto their road and was glad to see Louis’s car in the garage. He didn’t actually think that Louis would forget to be home for his arrival, but there was always a chance. Typically he was the forgetful one, things would just slip right out of his mind from time to time but he’d always remember eventually and Louis told him that was all that matters.

It would be a lie to say that Harry did not feel a wave of disappointment at not being met at the door. After one of his very first trips alone to LA, Louis had met him at the door with a cake he’d spent the whole day making him from scratched. His boyfriend had been so proud of himself that Harry didn’t even mind how much of a mess their kitchen was, and there was no doubt that Harry would be the one to clean up. The cake turned out to actually be quite tasty too, and if Anne let it slip that Louis had her on speaker for well over an hour it hadn’t diminished Harry’s delight one bit.

This time though, there was no sign of Louis at all. No beautiful boy sitting in their front room, no smell of one of Louis’s attempts in the kitchen, no music that Louis played just a bit louder when he was home alone to fill the emptiness of the rooms. Harry pouted and went straight for the thermostat. Louis liked the house much chillier than Harry did. Normally, Harry would find the house significantly warmer than it typically was when he returned from the States. Louis told him it was the least he could do to help slowly acclimatize the younger boy back to the cooler temperature of London. “Why is it so fucking cold?” Harry grumbled to the seemingly unoccupied house.

“Sorry love!” Louis’s voice was gentle and Harry hurried to the den to find Louis curled up in a blanket with a book in his hand. Harry chuckled as his lack of greeting was immediately forgotten over the fact that Louis looked too cute wearing Harry’s much too large jumper with his glasses on. Louis’s eyes opened wide as it donned on him that his boyfriend was home. “I must have lost track of time,” Louis apologized as he jumped up to hug Harry. “I’m sorry. I was going to pick up some food so it’d be hot and ready when you got here. Mum made us a nice trifle.”

“It’s alright.” Harry kissed Louis affectionately. “Since when do you read?” His teasing came with a tickle to Louis’s side that had the smaller man squirming in an attempt to escape from Harry’s embrace. 

Louis nipped at Harry’s stubbly chin. “Fizzy lent me it. Said I just had to read it, or something.” He shrugged nonchalantly and wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist, cool hands slipping under the loose fitting shirt. “Good flight, sweetheart?”

“It wasn’t bad,” Harry commented. “The ride home wasn’t pleasant. Too much traffic.” He pushed Louis’s fringe off his forehead and gave him a quick kiss before leading him towards the kitchen. “Did you go out at all today?”

“No,” Louis confessed. “Trifle before dinner? I can order something now, it won’t be long.”

“It’s alright, I’ll make some pasta. It’ll only be a few minutes.” Harry opened the pantry and tried to decide upon what to cook. “Go grab your book if you’d like.”

“Don’t be silly,” Louis protested. “You just got here! Sit down and relax. Tell me about your week.” He rubbed Harry’s lower back, already knowing that he was fighting a losing battle. Harry was always trying to take care of him, stubbornly making sure he ate right. 

“I think I’ll do a chicken penné. Does that sound okay, dove?” Harry asked.

Louis nodded and reached for a box. “Can I at least help?”

“Nope,” Harry smiled brightly as he took the box of pasta from Louis and put it on the counter and headed to the fridge. “I have done absolutely nothing today, let me do this for you, yeah? Go grab my carryon, I got you a shirt.”

“You spoil me,” Louis shook his head with mock disapproval, but made his way out of the kitchen anyways.

Harry set about prepping their dinner, only looking up to accept Louis’s appreciative smooch when he’d returned. And as the chicken popped in the frying pan, he watched his boy - with his feet up on his chair and blanket around his shoulders - and knew the comfortable silence was the sweetest sound he could have come home to.


End file.
